Down and Dirty
by elle4
Summary: Dean calls Castiel. Need I say more?
1. Chapter 1

Dean had the number on speed dial. It was number two. Sam was reserved as number one, in hopes that in his drunken state, he'd dial his number and hear his brother's voice as a deterrent. Press number two, and he'd most likely be digging himself in a hole. A bigger hole than what he was already finding himself in.

He pressed the second number. Yes, Dean was buzzed. He hadn't hit that drunken state, yet. Wasn't even close to being wasted. Just mostly giddy. A blush started to fill his warming cheeks. The number was ringing.

"Hey," Dean said. He knew the other person had answered the phone.

"Hello, Dean."

"I really needed to call you," Dean said.

"Don't tell me you're drunk, again," the other man said.

"No," Dean replied. "I only had two beers tonight, no liquor."

"Good," he said.

"Cas," Dean said, "What are you wearing?"

"What do you think, Dean?"

Dean sighed, "Come on, that's not how this goes."

"Then how does it go?"

"You describe," Dean started to say, "what you're wearing in a way that…" Dean trailed off.

"That will engage your imagination," Castiel finished.

"Exactly."

"Well," Castiel began, "I'm wearing my usual attire. Tan trench coat, a white button up shirt, the blue tie that Jimmy bought at Sears ten years ago, black slacks and black shoes."

"What are you wearing underneath?"

"Underneath?" Castiel asked.

"You're pants," Dean said. "You really are bad at this."

"At what, may I ask?"

"Phone sex," Dean said out right. The sudden silence on the other end didn't alarm Dean. "I called you to get off, is that such a crime?"

"But, I'm a guy," Castiel started to say.

"No shit, Cas," Dean said. "You know the sexual tension between us. Let's just skip the awkwardness of it all, and get down and dirty."

"But over the phone?"

Dean sighed heavily. "Isn't it less weird to do it over the phone?"

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "Is it?"

"Sure it is," Dean replied. "We won't be waking up next to each other, not having to make breakfast in the morning, and I don't have to answer to Sammy when this gets to that awkward, 'I have to tell my brother' stage."

"Okay," Castiel gave in. "You'll have to walk me through this. I have not had the opportunity to experience this," Castiel paused, "phone sex."

"Alright," Dean said, taking a sip of his third beer. "Boxers or briefs?"

"Boxers, I believe," Castiel said. "In a green color. Rather much like your eyes."

Dean shifted in his seat. "Okay, that's a start."

"What about you?"

"I'm only wearing a blue t-shirt and black boxers," Dean replied. "Nothing else. I'm sitting in my room at the bunker, the lights are dimmed, and I have Led Zeppelin's 'All of My Love' on in the background."

"I actually quite like that song," Castiel said, his voice was lower, deeper, than normal.

"I knew you did," Dean said.

"Now what?" Castiel asked, confused.

Dean laughed light heartedly. "What do you want to do to me?"

"Um," Castiel said, rather uncomfortably. He wasn't sure what to say in reply to this question. There was no doubt in his mind that he felt something between himself and Dean. It clearly wasn't a brotherly bond, nor a best friend bond that had brought the men together. The profound bond between man and angel was more than that, and both knew it wholeheartedly. Bringing that feeling to the surface was something neither of them knew how to fathom.

"Fine, I'll keep going," Dean said. "I did call you in the first place." Dean shifted, slouching lower on his bed. He hoped beyond hope that Sam couldn't hear a thing down the hall. "I'm running my hand down my chest, slowly reaching my nipple. What do you want me to do next?"

"I don't know, Dean," Castiel said, a slight hitch in his throat.

"Fuck." Dean was growing frustrated. "If you're not going to help me out here, then why did I bother?"

"Perhaps doing this over the phone wasn't the best idea," Castiel said.

"Maybe it wasn't," Dean sighed. He heard a click from the other line. Had Castiel just hung up on him? Within seconds, Castiel was in Dean's room. The trench coat, tie and pants were not on the man. Castiel had hastily taken them off before barging into his friends' room. He stood there at the foot of Dean's bed clad in only his white button up shirt and the green boxers that Dean was worried he only had to picture in his minds' eye. Dean gulped. Was this actually going down? "Cas." Dean could hardly get the name out. His mouth was beginning to get dry. Dean licked his lips, both in infatuation and in an effort to moisten his lips.

Castiel stood at the foot of Dean's bed. It was only a twin bed. A rather small bed for a man like Dean, but it was one that Dean could finally call his own. Once finished with a case, it was nice to be able to crawl in between his own sheets, on his own mattress, and drift into sleep without fearing for his life beyond the walls of the bunker.

"Is this better, Dean?" Castiel asked.

Dean had a hard time answering the angel. He bit his lower lip, nodding in response to the question. Dean reached over to his bedside dresser, blindly found the stereo remote, and turned up the Led Zeppelin album that was still playing. He thanked the classic rock gods as he remembered that he had loaded in five other albums into the six CD changer. Dean hit the shuffle button on the remote as Cas began to slowly crawl towards Dean from the foot of the bed. Hendrix's 'Foxy Lady' began to pour from the speakers. Let Jimmy take over, indeed

* * *

**Note: I try not to go this Destiel with things, but I felt like I should expand on what I write, even though I've done a phone conversation bit before. If you all, whoever reviews this, want more, perhaps I'll expand on this idea. But only if that. I'm not much for writing smut, so that is mostly likely all you'll get at the moment. Thanks, lovelies.**


	2. Chapter 2

It was close to one in the morning when the brothers arrived back at the bunker. They had spent the morning at a crime scene. A young man had been murdered in the next town over. The local police officials had found the body in a back alley behind a strip joint. Dean couldn't help but to drag Sam into the strip club after they found out all they could from the cops. They downed a couple beers each as they watched the girls preform. Dean spent the last of his cash on a lap dance for his brother, to which Sam happily sat through.

Once at home, they went to their respective rooms. Dean turned on his stereo. After rifling through his cd collection, he decided upon one he hadn't listened to in quite a while. He almost forgot he owned a copy of this particular Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers album. Dean dialed a certain number on his phone, and collapsed onto his mattress. The album played in the background as the phone rang.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel answered.

"Hey, Cas."

"Isn't it kind of late to be calling me, Dean?"

"I can't shut my mind off," Dean said, "so I doubt I'll be getting much sleep."

"What's on your mind?" Castiel asked.

"Can we try again?"

"Try what again?"

"Last week," Dean said, "when I called you…"

"Before I appeared in your room," Castiel finished.

"So?" Dean asked.

"Perhaps we can try again," Castiel said.

"Just don't go and pop in like you did last time. I'm still trying to keep up a lie to Sammy about why you were here."

"He saw me when I left to get you a glass of water, didn't he?"

"Yeah, Cas. He did," Dean said. "I think we should just keep to the phone for now."

"Okay," Castiel agreed.

"So," Dean said, dragging the word out. He was starting to remind himself of when he was in high school, talking to his crush, and running out of things to say.

"Dean," Castiel said. "Didn't you like last week?"

"Cas, it was great," Dean said. He began reminiscing about that night. Dean called Castiel in a drunken state. He didn't think it would lead to anything, let alone lead to the angel dropping into his room.

"Didn't you like it when I slowly crawled up from the foot of your bed?"

Dean closed his eyes. Of course, now you know what to say, he thought. "I did."

"How about when I whispered into your ear," Castiel's voice lowered. "I waited for you. Waited for you from the moment I pulled you up. Waited until that moment when I was human, seeing you for the first time. Held out hope that you felt the same. And you did. I knew you did."

"I always have, Cas," Dean almost whispered. His eyes were shut, and his body began to react to hearing those words again. He adjusted himself on the bed. Just the thought of what had went down last week was enough, but Castiel retelling the night in his deep, husky voice? It was doing things to Dean that he had never thought to be right. Things that Dean didn't want to feel right about admitting to himself. Things that he couldn't even admit to his own brother.

"Didn't you like it when I began to kiss your neck? When I slowly ran my fingers under your shirt?" Dean began to bite his bottom lip, trying to hold back a moan. "Or when our mouths met, our tongues danced, and our breathing began to be labored?" Dean tried desperately to hold himself back. The music wasn't loud enough to cover any noise that would emanate out of his throat. "Or how about when you held me close, our hearts beating in tune with each other."

"Fuck, Cas," Dean finally got out. "Why did I ever agree to keep this as just phone sex?"

"It was your decision," Castiel said. "I could come by, and we could," he began to say.

Dean cut him off. "Please." It was more of his body begging to be touched again, begging for a repeat performance of last week. There was nothing that Dean wanted more. He waited long enough without the touch of his angel. Another day and he might crack. Castiel's love was a drug that Dean didn't want to quit.

"But what about Sam?"

All sexual tension Dean was harboring started to ebb at his brother's name. "I don't care anymore. He probably knows already, anyway."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then he's just going to have to suck it up," Dean said. "You're not leaving me anytime soon."

"I won't leave you, Dean," Castiel said.

"Then come over," Dean pleaded. "I want you here so that you can't leave me."

"We have to hang up," Castiel said.

"Can't you fly here, first? Hang up after you get here?"

"Okay." Dean could almost see Castiel smiling. Within the next second the angel was standing in the same spot as the week before. The trench coat wearing man had the phone to his ear, and a smile on his face. The men hung up at the sight of each other.

"I missed you," Dean admitted.

* * *

**Note: Barely edited. Half awake. Drinking. Work blows. At least I have popcorn. And Destiel. Read. Review. I'll love you the way Dean loves pie.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was sitting at one of the large tables in the study. His laptop was open alongside piles of papers and Men of Letter's manila file folders. He was attempting to do research. There was a possible lead to what could have killed the young man that died in the back alley behind the strip club. Sam had jokingly chocked it up to gnomes. It was Dean who couldn't believe how much lore there actually was on the funny little creatures. They weren't just tiny men in pointy hats.

"I kind of was hoping they'd be like the underpants gnomes from South Park," Dean said to Sam. He had a folder open that showed sketches of what these creatures possibly looked like. The consensus seemed to be that they were small sized men-like creatures with pointy teeth and a homicidal disposition. Their kills seemed to all have the same features; bite marks along the victims' legs. It wasn't the bites that would kill them, but the poison in the gnomes' saliva. Most victims wouldn't be found as they would be taken underground to their burrows.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sam asked. He was sitting across from his brother.

"Then I wouldn't have to gank the son of a bitch," Dean said. "Just let them come in to my room, steal my underwear, and watch them leave. No bloodshed. It's a win-win."

"But that is never the way these things actually go," Sam said, sitting back in his seat. He pushed aside the papers in front of him. This whole gnome idea was getting to be kind of ridiculous. The brothers didn't even know if this was the monster that killed the victim or not. Later that day they were to head over to the police station and then to the morgue. Sam was crossing his fingers that it wasn't gnomes.

Dean sat back in his seat as well. He shut his laptop. Dean said, "Sam, can we talk about something?"

"About what?" Sam asked.

"It's about me," Dean paused, "and Cas."

"You don't have to explain, Dean," Sam said. Dean looked at his brother questioningly. "I kind of was hoping that you two would have worked this out sooner, but I'm happy for the both of you."

"Seriously?" Dean was floored. He thought this was going to be hard, and that he'd have to explain quite a bit to Sam. Dean had stayed up most of the night thinking about how to best approach the situation between him and Castiel. His biggest fear was that Sam wouldn't accept his brother for who he had become, or who he had been all along. That was Dean's fear about himself. That he wasn't true to himself, and that he was hiding behind his manly façade. He was lucky that his current porn obsession was the androgynous style of Japanese anime. What his brother couldn't figure out wouldn't hurt him.

"Seriously," Sam said. "I kind of had a bet going with Charlie. She knew the two of you had a thing going when she read the last of Chuck's Supernatural books, you know, before he poofed off the planet."

"What ever happened to him?" Dean asked.

"He just disappeared," Sam said, shrugging. "Last I heard he sent Becky the stories of our years before I lost my soul. She posted it in its entirety on the internet, and no one has heard of Chuck since."

"So, Charlie only read about me and Cas, those first two years we knew him?"

"I guess so," Sam said.

"And that's all she had to go by?" Dean asked.

"It was pretty obvious, Dean."

"How obvious?" Dean leaned forward on the table.

"As obvious as the plastic surgery on Joan Rivers' face," Sam quipped.

"That obvious?"

"That obvious."

"Shit," Dean said, as he sat back in his seat. He ran his hand over his face. "Well, in that case, we might as well make it legit."

"I do have ears, dude," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Not in that way, bitch."

"What?" Sam asked. "A proper date?"

"I guess so," Dean said. "I should probably take Cas on a date."

* * *

**Note: I'm going through some family shit at the moment****. This actually helped a tiny bit with my troubles. The underpants gnome bit made me slightly happy inside. See, writing destiel fanfiction does help you in the real world.**


	4. Chapter 4

Later that day the brothers made their way to the police station. They needed some more information about the murder in order to continue their investigation. Seeing the body in the morgue was Sam's main priority. It was the definitive proof of what they were up against.

Dean was behind the wheel of the Impala. Twenty minutes on the road, and he had no idea what to say to his little brother. Their conversation earlier in the day was still coursing through his mind. Mostly, Dean had to come up with a plan for a proper date. He pigeon holed himself, and there was no way of ignoring the fact that if Dean planned on not screwing their relationship up with meaningless sex, he needed to take Castiel out. The problem was that Dean didn't know what to do with him.

He never had such difficulty with coming up with ideas for dates. Dean took most of the women he went out with on the cliché dates of going to the movie theatre or eating out at nice restaurants. Castiel didn't fall with these women. He needed something special. Dean had no idea what that special something was.

"Sam," Dean said, breaking the silence. "What am I doing?"

"You're driving," Sam said. He was slouched in the passenger's seat the best he could in what room he had in the Impala.

"No shit," Dean said. "I'm talking about taking Cas on a date. What the hell am I doing?"

"Meaning what, exactly?" Sam asked. "The idea of taking him out or where to actually take him out?"

Dean sighed. "Both."

Sam sat up in his seat. He reached over to the volume knob on the dash. Dean didn't refute as Black Sabbath was turned down to almost mute. "You like him, right?"

"Yeah," Dean admitted.

"You're having difficulty with the thought of being with Cas, in that way, in public?"

"Maybe."

"Then get over it," Sam said. "Just go out, have a good time, and enjoy each other's company."

"You make it sound easy."

"It is, Dean. You're making it more difficult than it has to be."

"Alright, fine." Dean gave in to his brother. "Then where am taking Cas? I've been thinking about it, and I don't think dinner and a movie is the right choice. We got to do something different."

"I dunno," Sam said. "When did you plan on asking him out?"

"Soon. Probably this weekend."

"Then you got a couple days to mull it over," Sam said.

Dean adjusted in his seat, shifting to drive with his right hand on the wheel. He had to come up with something good. Castiel deserved an out of the ordinary date. They had been close friends, and barely dealt with the sexual tension that they harbored over the years that they had known each other. Dean had always told Castiel off for standing in his personal space, even though he hated when the angel listened. Now, Dean could have Castiel close to him, without feeling the need to push him away.

Castiel had shown Dean his angel warding tattoo that first night they spent together. He explained what each symbol meant as Dean traced the black lines with his finger. In turn, Castiel adored Dean's. It felt nice to just lie there in each other's embrace. At that moment of recollection, Dean knew what their first date would consist of.

The brothers made it into the city just shortly after their conversation ended. Dean parked the Impala on the side of the street. The police station was down the road a piece, and they walked quietly together on the sidewalk. Once there, the cops told the boys of their recent findings. Sam and Dean were then shown the body in the morgue. Much to Sam's frustration, the body was indeed covered in bite marks from thigh to ankle. The coroner was baffled. He had never seen anything to this degree. While they were there, the tox report had been concluded. The poison that was found in the body was of one that didn't make a whole lot of sense. It was closely related to poisonous snakes that clearly were found half way across the world. The case didn't seem logical to the man. Thankfully it wasn't his job to figure out what happened to the victim. He just had to report his findings to the two men in suits who would in turn figure out this puzzle. Sam knew what it was almost immediately.

"I can't believe fucking gnomes are behind this," Sam said. They walked down to the first restaurant they came across. It was a sports bar. A baseball game graced the televisions. The Tigers were losing, four to one in the sixth.

"How do we find these little bastards?" Dean asked. The Tiger's pitcher walked another. Dean groaned. Figures they'd lose this game, he thought.

"I really have no idea," Sam said before taking a gulp of his beer. "So," Sam changed the subject, "Have you come up with any ideas about your date?"

"I have actually," Dean said.

"Then tell me," Sam said

"Why should I tell you?"

"'Cause I'm your little brother, and Cas is my friend too."

"Fine. But don't laugh," Dean said. He stopped the waitress and ordered two shots, her choice. He wanted to see what concoction she'd come up with. "I want to take Cas to a tattoo shop. It's high time I get another one."

"That's actually a really interesting date idea, Dean."

Dean shrugged. "I try." The waitress brought over two shot glasses of a light pink liquid. Dean didn't care to ask what they were. He downed one in a quick gulp. "Tastes like watermelon jolly ranchers."

Sam drank the shot. "That shit is good." He placed the empty glass upside down on the bar. "Have you been thinking about what you'd get?"

"I was thinking of letting Cas choose mine, and I'd choose his."

"Cas? Getting a tattoo?"

"He has one already. It's an angel warding, enochian script thing."

"I'm not going to ask where," Sam said behind his pint.

"It's just on his stomach," Dean said.

"Like I'd ever want to see that," Sam said under his breath.

Dean took another drink of his beer. "What should Cas get tattooed?"

"I dunno," Sam said. "He's not my boyfriend."

* * *

**Note: Kept my mind on writing today. Helped a lot, actually. Last night, over a few beers at our local watering hole, my bestie and I came up with a prompt list for this fic. Her first idea was the boys having a date getting tattoos. So, I obliged. The date will be done up soon. As soon as I come up with what they will both get. Any ideas? Hit me up. Thanks for sticking with me. Much appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

Dean and Castiel sat in the Impala. They were parked in the lot that sat in front of the tattoo shop. It was the closest one to the bunker, and Dean figured it would be okay to get their new ink here. Dean called up Castiel earlier in the week to explain what their first date would consist of, giving him ample time to figure out what they both were planning to get for the other. It took Castiel only a few short hours to use Sam's laptop to find a picture of the perfect image. Dean, on the other hand, struggled to come up with something even half way decent.

The men each had their images in their pockets, keeping them hidden until they met up with the artist. The whole point was for them to give each other a tattoo that expressed who they were, essentially branding the other with an image that would remind them of who they belonged to. It seemed like the sappiest first date the two could have. And the fact that it was Dean's idea made it even more ridiculous. He was never the girly, romantic type. What was Castiel turning him into?

They walked into the shop after a good ten minutes of sitting in the parked car. Dean needed to garner up his resolve. He was starting to chicken out at the thought of what Castiel could have possibly come up with for his tattoo. Would he like it? Or would he regret even coming up with this idea in the first place? Castiel and Dean met up with each other's artists, and proffered up their tattoo ideas. They still didn't know what they had decided upon, holding out for when the artist placed the stencil on their bodies.

"Alright," the burly man with a beard said, "he wanted yours to be on the inside of your upper right arm." The man was covered in tattoos and piercings. Dean could only imagine how much that septum piercing must have hurt. He'll stick with tattoos.

The man placed the stencil on Dean's arm. Dean looked and saw a single feather gracing his bicep in blue ink. A smile formed. It was a perfect representation of Castiel. Within minutes, the tattoo artist started on the feather in black ink.

In the next room, Castiel sat down in the chair. The woman who was doing his tattoo had died bright blue hair. Castiel couldn't let his eyes leave the realistic looking tiger on her arm. It was beautifully done, he thought. "I don't know why your boyfriend chose this, but it must mean something to the both of you," she said. "He wants it on your left wrist."

"That seems like a small space," Castiel said.

"Here," she said. She handed over the piece of paper that Dean had given her. It wasn't an image at all, but a date. The date that Castiel pulled Dean out of hell. The date and event that caused the bond between the hunter and the angel. It was perfect. Castiel smiled widely.

"It's the date we met," Castiel said to the woman.

"That's really sweet of him to do that," she said as she placed the stencil on his wrist.

"Makes my single feather look less thought out than it actually was," he said.

"I doubt that, honey," she said. "If the feather represents you, then he'll love it. And he's in capable hands. Johnny did my tiger tattoo last month."

"It really is a wonderful tiger," Castiel said. He loved the bright colors of oranges and pinks. It was a work of art. Castiel didn't know that tattoos could be so artistic and so realistic. He knew Dean's feather was going to turn out to be something worth staring at after it was finished.

In less time than he thought, Castiel had a new tattoo which was covered in gauze. She told him to keep it covered for at least an hour and told him all of the things he needed to do in order for it to heal properly. He remembered hearing this lecture when he got his angel warding tattoo months ago, but he let her do her job. Castiel wasn't going to let this get ruined. He then went into the next room to see how Dean was doing.

"It fucking hurts," Dean said upon seeing Castiel.

"Come on," Castiel said rather much like Dean. "You've broken your leg before, how can this be that bad?"

"Shut up," Dean said, squinting his eyes while trying to control his breathing. The tattoo was nearly done. The line work had been completed and Johnny only had to finish up the shading. Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel smiling. "What?"

"I love mine," Castiel answered.

"I hoped you did," Dean said. "I had no clue what to pick, so I settled on the date you pulled me out of hell." Johnny stopped tattooing to look at his customer. He questioned what that actually meant, but continued on his task without asking.

"It's perfect, Dean."

Once the men paid for, and tipped their artists for their tattoos, Dean drove Castiel to his favorite bar for a burger. He was getting hungry. A cheesy, greasy burger was calling his name all afternoon at the tattoo shop. And a beer. He needed a beer.

"So, Dean," Castiel started to say, "what are we doing after dinner?"

"I dunno," Dean said behind a mouthful of his food. He swallowed. "Back to the bunker? I bought a few movies the other night. We could just stay in and watch the second Hobbit film. I know how much you love Tolkien."

"I'd like that."

* * *

**Note: Two chapters in one day? Yes. Now, I have to figure out what my next prompt will be to keep this story going. And yes, the gnomes aren't finished!**


	6. Chapter 6

Dean and Castiel found themselves on a rather comfy couch in the bunker. At Dean's request they chose to watch the first Hobbit movie. He hadn't seen it yet, and he didn't want to admit that he did in fact read the book, but thought it was best to watch the first film before moving on to the second. They didn't get to the second movie.

By the time the first film ended, it was nearly two in the morning. Dean almost nodded off when Bilbo and his companions were stuck up a tree. Despite the intensity of the scene, he could barely keep his eyes open. Castiel nudged him in the ribs. "Come on, it's the best part," he insisted. Dean did his best to stay awake.

Once the credits started to roll, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand. He practically dragged the other man down the hall towards his bedroom. "I'm so fucking tired," Dean groggily said. He hurriedly changed out of the clothes he had been wearing for far too long. In an instant Dean flopped onto his bed in exhaustion. It didn't take long for the hunter to start snoring. Castiel kissed him lightly on the forehead.

Sam was sitting at one of the large tables in the library. He had his nose in a book. Castiel came into the room. "Shit, Cas," Sam said as he almost jumped out of his chair. "Warn a guy when you walk into a room."

"Sorry, Sam," Castiel said.

"Why aren't you with Dean? Movie over?"

"Yes, it is." Castiel sat down across from Sam. "What are you reading?"

"Some novel I found on the shelves," Sam said. He marked his page with an index card. "It's kind of a fairy tale about a hunter and a werewolf. I think the author was a Men of Letter's member, but I'm not really sure." Castiel sat in silence with his hands folded on the table. He was looking down at the novel. "You okay, Cas?"

"I don't really need sleep, so I don't know what to do with myself."

Sam nodded in understanding. "And Dean's bed barely fits him."

"I know."

"So, you came out here to..." Sam trailed off.

Castiel finished his sentence, "To kill time until the morning."

"Then help me with the case that we're on," Sam said.

"The gnomes?"

Sam laughed. He still had a hard time adjusting to the fact that gnomes do exist. In the world of the supernatural, it wasn't that difficult to understand that anything could be possible. "We know what we're up against, and we know how to kill them. The problem is with how to find them."

"Well, I have never come across a gnome, so I don't think I could be of any help."

"I was afraid of that."

"But," Castiel said, "I do know someone who could be of help."

Sam pulled off a slight bitch face. "Don't you say it."

"But he would know more about them than I would."

"Dean would kill me if I asked him."

"Then I have no other options for you," Castiel said.

* * *

Castiel woke Dean up in the morning. The sun had rose and the birds began their morning ritual of singing its praise. It was a beautiful day. Dean shouldn't miss it, Castiel thought. "Good morning, Dean," Castiel said when his partner's eyes slowly opened.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said groggily. "What time is it?"

"Seven."

Dean rolled over, pulling the sheets over his head. "Wake me in two more hours."

"It's a beautiful morning, don't you want to go outside?" Castiel asked. He did his best to pull the sheets down, but Dean's grasp on them was tight. "Fine. I'll just have to make bacon and eggs for Sam then."

Dean peaked out under the covers. "Bacon?"

"And eggs, coffee, and bagels from that bakery in town," Castiel said.

"Okay," Dean gave in. "I'll get my ass out of bed for bacon." Once Dean threw on some sweatpants, the two men made to leave the bedroom. Dean stopped Castiel in the hall. "I didn't get my morning kiss." Dean placed a soft kiss on his angel's lips. Castiel initiated it to be continued more passionately. It was the perfect way to start a morning.

"Well, well." The two men had been compromised. A voice that they both knew all too well came up behind them. "Not Moose and Wings finally tied the knot."

"Shut up, Crowley," Dean scowled. "How'd you get out of the dungeon anyway?"

"Moose let me up. I am still handcuffed, sadly," Crowley said, lifting up his wrists.

"What do you want?" Dean asked.

"Moose needs my help with whatever monster of the week you've found yourselves dealing with," Crowley said.

"Gnomes," Dean said under his breath. It was still difficult to say that word without the urge to laugh. Dean could still picture the Roaming Gnome from those commercials jumping a victim, gnawing on his legs, seeping poison into his bloodstream, and dragging him back to his burrow under the ground. If he didn't see all of the lore from the Men of Letters, Dean wouldn't believe that they actually existed.

"Precisely," Crowley said. "Those little buggers usually stay in Europe, but have somehow found their way to the land of the free and the home of the all you can eat buffet."

"Then why does Sammy need your help with them?"

"Since you're getting all cozy with your mate the past few days, he needed a partner in crime." Crowley had a mischievous smile on his face. "So, he struck up a deal with yours truly. I'm just going to help him find the little bastard. Moose is doing the dirty work."

Dean looked a bit pissed at hearing that his brother was working with the demon. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Just get out of here."

"My pleasure," Crowley said. He still had a rather creepy smile on his face, as he made his way down the hall towards the bunker's library.

* * *

**Note: Damn you, Crowley! This was one of the prompts that my friend came up with. Crowley catching the two of them. It was my duty to write it within the stories' perimeters, and I'm quite pleased with it, even though it is rather short. Thanks again to everyone who clicked follow or favorite and chose to comment. You all know who you are.**


	7. Chapter 7

The bunker was left to Dean and Castiel. Sam took Crowley out for the hunt to kill the gnome. They wouldn't be returning until the next day. Dean felt that he could finally let loose with Castiel without having his little brother being in the next room. The two men were sitting on the couch watching television. Castiel settled on a marathon of Will and Grace.

"Do homosexuals really act like Jack?" Castiel asked after the third episode.

"Some do, I guess," Dean said. "Do we really have to watch TV? We have the whole bunker to ourselves."

Castiel turned to his partner. "What do you suggest we do since we're alone?"

"What do you think?" Dean had a glint in his eye. It wasn't difficult for Castiel to read what he was thinking. Castiel leaned over and kissed Dean. His mouth tasted of beer and popcorn. It seemed like a turn off, but Castiel didn't care. It was better than anything he had ever tasted. Dean leaned forward, easing Castiel onto his back. The two seemed to meld together into the couch. Dean pulled away from their passionate kissing. "How far are we taking this?"

Castiel gave Dean a quick kiss before saying, "Whatever you're comfortable with."

Even though Castiel had appeared in Dean's bedroom twice, they hadn't fully consummated their relationship. They stuck with an almost juvenile way of expressing their love. It was filled with mostly kissing and touching, the foreplay before the main event. Dean was having difficulty with wrapping his mind around going all the way with another man. In his mind, it wasn't hard to envision. In real life, actually going through with it, he was still scared.

Dean could feel his body reacting. Castiel's fingers slipped under Dean's shirt, gripping his waist in order to pull him closer. Dean began to place light kisses along the angel's neck. He then rested his forehead against Castiel's chest. He sighed heavily. "What's wrong," Castiel asked.

"I want this," Dean started to say. "I really do want this." Dean looked back up into Castiel's eyes. Castiel looked back at him questioningly. "I just don't know," Dean whispered.

"Don't know what?"

"If this is the right time for this, for us. I don't want to fuck this up. You'll always be first and foremost my best friend. And if shit hits the fan in the future, which it will, I don't want to lose you again," Dean said.

"I understand," Castiel replied. "And if you're not ready, or if you're not comfortable with anything, I understand."

Dean smiled shyly before kissing Castiel. It was a comfort knowing that he wasn't going to push him into anything that he wasn't comfortable with. Perhaps acting like silly teenagers with their first boyfriend would be enough for moment. "Thank you, Cas."

* * *

**Note: Ha ha... I'm such a fucking tease. But, I mean, really? How else would one feel in this sort of situation? No prior experience, still getting used to the newly formed relationship... Can't I be somewhat realistic here, despite it being fan fiction? I'll just go over here and listen to NoFX as you shake your fists in frustration in my general direction. **


End file.
